


Gourami

by yeaka



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, F/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 08:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21504730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: David’s smitten with the woman in his bathtub.
Relationships: David Mailer/Marcy Warton | Traveler 3569
Kudos: 6





	Gourami

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Travelers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

David comes home to a trail of puddles across his living room floor, which means Marcy’s crawled out of the tub again, though he knows she’s home from the quiet mechanical clicks drifting through the washroom door. As soon as he’s shed his shoes, he heads straight there, arms laden with all the strange things that she asked for—bits of technology he barely understands, most of which he _thinks_ is medical but he can’t quite be sure. Sometimes, it seems like Marcy’s intelligence level is so far beyond him that she must see him as an animal. Other times, she doesn’t understand the most basic things, and he realizes how out of her depth she really is on land.

She’s currently lounging in his bathtub, where she is most of the time, soaking in warm water that’ll be worth the increased bill. She’s wearing one of his old t-shirts that’s practically glued to her skin, showing everything off, but David’s almost built up an immunity at this point. It helps that her dazzling blue tail is even prettier than the rest of her delicate body, the gold-tipped scales every bit as gorgeous as her human skin. The translucent ends are draped over the side, her blond hair spilling over the rim, and her hands are busy with some sort of electronic rubik’s cube that he has to resist yanking away from her. 

He starts setting the pieces in his arms down onto the table she’s dragged into the room, mumbling, “I got what you asked for.”

“Thank you,” she tells him, breathless but quick, clearly focused on her task. She reaches out without looking, as though expecting him to know just what to give her, but David doesn’t oblige.

He presses, “You shouldn’t be using electronics over water.”

Marcy snorts and insists, “It’s fine. I’m a doctor.”

So he’s heard. So he’s _seen_. He has no idea where a mermaid learned the skills to operate, but then again, he also has no idea how he even found a mermaid in the first place. Most days, he feels strangely blessed, even though she’s obviously on a crucial mission that she won’t tell him anything about. He doesn’t blame her for keeping so many secrets—humans must seem like complete douche bags to creatures stuck in their polluted oceans. David does his best to compensate.

Marcy gestures with her hand and glances over, pointing at the round tube that looks like a hollow battery. She asks, this time with a slight smile that absolutely melts him, “Could you pass me that?”

David does. He’s a sucker for her smile. He’s a sucker for her beauty, her sweetness, and the intense sense of _importance_ that wafts about her. She’s amazing in so many different ways. 

She’s obviously busy, so David wanders off, offering lamely, “I’ll make dinner.”

“No fish, please, David.”

“’Course, Marce.”

Marcy calls after him, thick with meaning, “Thank you!”


End file.
